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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29871345">Jumpin' Jack Flash</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ukenceto/pseuds/ukenceto'>ukenceto</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Love beyond the bones [29]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gears of War (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Backstory, Blood and Injury, Gen, One Shot, Trauma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 13:54:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,080</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29871345</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ukenceto/pseuds/ukenceto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Caught in the buffer zone between two wars, but not yet knowing it; Paduk doesn't bother to lament on his loss before he's ready to face his foe again. </p><p>Or what happened in Vasgar all those years ago, when the Pendulum still swung</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Love beyond the bones [29]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1025247</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Jumpin' Jack Flash</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>The sound pulsates through his head, more vibration than audible noise; he feels himself slip in and out of consciousness, blinded, deafened by the blazing heat all around.</p><p>He is in agony, he is burning alive.</p><p>Smoke and sand swirl around, the rotor blades blinking like erratic shadows above him.</p><p>Acrid smoke fills his lungs, chokes him, sticks to the back of his throat along with the blood he feels rushing down sickly.</p><p> </p><p>It feels like the end, this time. For real.</p><p> </p><p>But he’d never been the one to go down without a fight.</p><p>He’s reaching for the straps keeping him tied to the seat, but that only brings another wave of agony.</p><p>Dark spots dance over his vision, he’s struggling to breathe the toxic fumes from the burning fuselage, from the Imulsion strike.</p><p>He doesn’t even have the energy to curse his foe one last time.</p><p> </p><p>The next time he opens his eyes, the world is a vertigo-inducing flurry of motion, someone’s dragging him out, lighting flares of pain through his core until his consciousness succumbs again.</p><p>There are distant flashes of awareness afterwards, detached, no more than nightmarish visions that his mind does not linger on.</p><p>Even in unconsciousness, there is agony.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>The next time he wakes, he’s greeted by darkness.</p><p>His ears catch the trace of sounds, but they’re muted, as if underwater. Ache and fatigue have him in an iron grip, and soon there’s nothing more he can do but close his eyes again.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The third time brings him light.</p><p>It brings the scent of disinfectant, of sickly-sweet rot: of bandaged wounds.</p><p>He knows that smell too well, and it makes his stomach turn, but luckily he doesn’t retch.</p><p>Hospitals always bring bad memories.</p><p>“Major, you’re awake!” The voice which greets him is full of relief, and he sees a familiar face alongside it. “I have to finish changing your dressings, it might hurt some.”</p><p>He doesn’t reply as the man’s face turns sympathetic, only braces himself for more pain.</p><p>There’s pull and pinch and he works slowly; when Paduk dares to look down, he sees the state of his arm.</p><p>The flesh is a mess of cracks and wounds and crusted blood, molted by heavy swatches of medication, making him close his eyes.</p><p>He remembers the burning, the blinding flare of the rocket hitting the ground right before he could land the helicopter.</p><p>“So we failed.” He finally croaks out and his voice is gravelly, throat struggling to make any noise at all.</p><p>“Yes.” Hadrien looked down, then began to wrap a fresh bandage around his arm. “We’re now in an old bunker about two hundred miles east of the airport.”</p><p>“You got to me before Trescu’s army somehow.” He grimaced in pain, but wished to stay awake at least until he knew the fate of those who had followed his plan. “And the others?”</p><p>“Those who survived the Cosmodrome assault are here too.” Hadrien checked the IV bag next to the bed, adjusting something on it. “But we can’t hide forever.”</p><p>“I… They’ll likely shoot us for this.” Paduk felt a strange sense of lightness spreading through him, numbing out the pain. Much too late he realized it was likely a sedative. “Don’t go down… without a fight…”</p><p>“Don’t worry Major. We won’t.” Hadrien’s face disappeared from his sight, replaced with soft darkness.</p><p>His pulse echoed in his ears, his thoughts running slow and thick like tar, until there was nothing left.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>It was the first time he could shower on his own, even stand up for more than a few minutes at a time. The water was lukewarm at most, and it still took a while for his sensitive skin to adjust to the temperature.</p><p>Rivulets dripped down his face, following groves which had not been there before.</p><p>For a long while, he simply stood still, glancing down at the parts of his body which were no longer obstructed by any cloth or wrapping.</p><p>A whole lot more scars than what he’d already had, the flesh smooth and still angry red, even if the wounds had already healed.</p><p>“Five more minutes.” The guard at the entrance of the bathroom said with disinterest, from where he was leaning against the tiled wall.</p><p>“Yeah…” Paduk answered, if only because he’d learned firsthand what happened when he didn’t.</p><p>He tried to keep the sneer out of his voice too, though his mind burned with hatred.</p><p>Had his body been in a better shape, had he not spent the last weeks nearly immobilized, there were several ways he could’ve killed that man with his bare hands.</p><p>But be as it may.</p><p> </p><p>A faint tremor ran through the building, making him frown. It was barely there, and a few days ago he might’ve blamed it on his own unsteady body, but now there was no doubt.</p><p>The guard’s reaction definitely warranted his attention too.</p><p>The man looked up to the ceiling, hand automatically reaching for his pistol.</p><p><em>Interesting</em>, Paduk thought.</p><p>Turning the faucets off, he slowly dried himself with the towel that was left on the rack nearby.</p><p>Catching a glimpse of his face in the small, patina-covered mirror was yet another harsh reminder of what had happened.</p><p>He’d always held himself with a sense of pride, his appearance not unlike those stylized posters urging people to join the war effort across the Republics. He was strong, he was agile, and he was used to the face which looked back at him every time he looked in a mirror.</p><p>The strong features a few had even dared to call handsome.</p><p>There was definitely a difference now. Even if his eyes were still the same.</p><p>Running a hand over his stubble, he wondered when would they entrust him with a razor, if at all.</p><p>“Hey, time to go. Come on.” The guard urged him on, his stance shifting from leisured to tensed in a moment.</p><p>Some things hadn’t changed.</p><p>He allowed himself a barely-there smirk, before walking forward.</p><p>There was a temporary reprieve for him, being stuck in the med bay since they had taken him and his people to the prisoner camp. But Paduk held no illusions that it would last much longer.</p><p>He might have failed to turn the tide, to do unto his enemy what had been done to their people, but that didn’t stop his thirst for revenge.</p><p>And one day, he would find a way to have it, of that much he was certain.</p><p> </p><p>***</p>
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